Page 163 of A Convenient Secret

I look away, and he takes my hand, patting it.

“You don’t have to tell me the details, but I hate seeing you this unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy, Dad. I’m happy to be back home, and I love the job. I didn’t even realize how much I cared about the company. I’m not going to lie, I am heartbroken, but I guess that is a rite of passage at my age.”

“If he is half as smart as you, he’ll realize soon what he lost and come crawling back.”

I roll my eyes.

“But if that happens…”

“Dad, don’t—”

“Are you sure you want an instant family, an older divorced man with kids?”

“As opposed to my conniving, no-morals, corrupt cousin?” I slide from the bed to return to my work, done with this conversation.

“Touché.”

Okay, fuck it, I’m not done with the conversation. I turn back. “For the record, Declan Quinn is a wonderful, caring, and loving man and father. He listens, and makes me feel safe. He’s smart, loyal, passionate, confident, and honest—” My voice breaks. I can’t claim the last one.

I hurry to collect my things and flee from here before I bawl in front of my father.

“If he’s so perfect, then where is he?”

“One more signature here.” Someone shoves another contract in front of me. I scan the pages and scribble my name on the last one.

“Okay, let’s start.” I look around the room, at people who are the trusted advisers of my father.

Most of them have been with the company for a very long time. They all look at me like I’m a nuisance.

Their vision, when they suggested me as their interim boss to the board, was that I’d bring over Daddy’s to-do list and they would happily go about their own business.

Dad clearly has enough sway with the board to outvote his half-sister. The problem with that is that Timothy is now trying to get to me, because with me in power, however temporarily, his undying love for me has bloomed. He’s been whining to the reporters about how grateful he is for my return, and can’t wait to plan the wedding. What an idiot.

At least Dad is on my side this time, understanding better the level of evil his kin can stir.

Regardless of the turmoil of my personal life, to the people in this room, I’m a glorified messenger. A poster child for nepotism. Mostly I’m just trying to grasp what’s going on here. But there are certain things where I can’t help, but want to contribute, to breathe fresh air into the traditional operation.

I’m excited about this company, but it’s hard to harness passion when one’s heart is bleeding.

The gaping wound festers and spreads like a disease, infecting my every waking hour. A part of mewants to call Declan, and another part waits for his call.

What is worse, there is no part of me that hopes to forget and move on.

I’ve navigated mistrust and manipulation all my life. I want to be surrounded by people I can trust.

And therein lies my problem. Because deep down, I trust Declan. I trust the man who made me feel cherished, protected, beautiful, and smart. Who let me care for the most precious people in his life.

God, I miss Zoya and Zach.

I miss him.

I miss him so much.

Someone clears their throat and snaps me back to the reality of the boardroom.

Shit. Daydreaming—or rather day-nightmaring—isn’t really a CEO groove.